


Rainy Sunday

by arrow (esteefee)



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: April Showers Challenge, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-03
Updated: 2009-07-03
Packaged: 2017-10-17 12:27:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/176848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esteefee/pseuds/arrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for sentinel_thurs' "rain" challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rainy Sunday

"God, I hate the rain," Jim said.

Rainy Sundays were the best, in Blair's opinion, because if Jim had them off, which he usually did, then he wouldn't be able to escape to his usually activities—errands all over town, or going for a long run, or playing b-ball in the park. No, he was cooped up inside, pacing around and getting irritated, which meant he was a prime candidate for looking for a distraction. _Any_ distraction, and Blair enjoyed being Jim's.

"Why do you hate the rain so much?" Blair asked, pretty reasonably he thought, considering Jim was trying to wear a hole through the varnish in nothing but his socks.

Jim shot him a narrow look and kept on with the pacing. "Lots of reasons."

"So name one." Blair crossed his legs into lotus and leaned back on the couch.

"Well, for a cop, it means trace evidence is getting washed away," Jim gestured with the flat of his hand, " _woop_ right down the drain."

"Okay, I can see that. Even a Sentinel would find it hard to smell evidence after a rain fall."

"As a traffic cop, it always meant more car accidents," Jim said slowly. "Fucking tragic waste. And as a Ranger, well, the sound of rain covers enemy movement." He stopped and shook his head. "Plus, it's no fun sleeping in the rain under a poncho, I'll tell you that much, Chief."

"I can dig it. I've been on expeditions where I had to shake the mud out of my shorts every morning before my first cup of coffee."

Jim gave him a sympathetic wince and circled to sit down on the other couch. "Nothing like scraping the mud off your balls to start the day."

Blair had to grin.

"Funerals," Jim said suddenly, then stopped.

Blair waited.

Jim scrubbed a hand over his crew cut. "I don't think I've ever been to a funeral where it wasn't raining. And when I buried my guys after the crash," he shrugged, "it was a rain forest, so..."

"Yeah," Blair said, swallowing around a dry lump.

Jim was staring at something only he could see. "It's not a sentinel thing, anyway, if that's why you're asking. I just hate it."

"That wasn't why," Blair said carefully.

Jim finally looked at him, and his eyes went softer. "Oh, yeah?"

"Jeez, Jim. Yeah."

"Oh." Jim ducked his head, and Blair grinned.

"You know why I like the rain?"

Jim gave him a little half-smile, shaking his head.

"Makes the city cleaner. Makes it greener. And I like it that—"

Jim raised his eyebrows.

It was Blair's turn to look away, and he felt a blush climbing his throat. "—we end up getting stuck in the loft together on rainy Sundays. Just you and me."

He could see Jim out of the corner of his eye staring at him intently. Blair wondered if he was tracking the heat on Blair's face, watching the capillaries expand, seeing the pulse that felt like it was pounding its way out of Blair's throat. If he was even smelling the need Blair felt for him rising from his skin in waves.

 _God, Jim. Say something, would you?_

"Maybe—" Jim cleared his throat. "Maybe the rain isn't so bad."

"Oh, yeah?" Blair said weakly.

"Yeah. It's got its up points. Like you said." It sounded like there was a smile in Jim's voice now, and Blair couldn't help it, he had to look, had to see if it was real, or if his ears were just playing tricks on him thanks to the steady pounding of the rain.

They weren't.

Blair smiled back.

 

...................  
2009.07.03


End file.
